What He Saw
by Neomistress
Summary: What if when Hiccup looked into Toothless' eyes he saw a different kind of fear, something more primal? It would lead to a different decision that day. One that would force Hiccup upon the path of a true Viking whether he wants to be or not. Rating is subject to change. Character Death in the beginning.
1. Prologue

**Ok. I don't know how to say this so I'll just be as blunt as possible. Toothless dies. Yeah. What started as an urge to see Hiccup become what his village wanted for a Chief turned into this. Sorry? It's odd because I don't do dark and this is kind of dark. I do like deep though so it'll probably mellow out across the next couple of chapters. ON TO THE STORY!**

**I wish I owned HtTYD.**

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"Woah… I-I did it! This fixes everything!" Hiccup was ecstatic! All his life he had been looked down upon. "Hiccup the useless, why does he even try?" To know that he had taken down a _Night Fury_ was like validating his existence. Finally he could make his father proud. Finally he would get some respect! Who could blame him for wanting to brag a little?

He rested his foot upon the large black dragon and said, "I have defeated this mighty beast!" only to be shaken off by a loud snorting. Great Odin, it was still alive! Hiccup sat on the ground facing his newest dilemma. He had never been in a situation where he could even fight a dragon, let alone kill one. Faced with the real thing he was slowly realizing that this might not be what he wants.

"No," Hiccup stood. "I am a Viking!" Killing dragons was in his blood. The Haddocks had been fighting dragons since his namesake first founded the village! He pulled his dagger from his fur vest and stared at the Night Fury, a strange rage suddenly taking over him.

"You hear me, dragon! I'm going t-to cut your heart out and bring it to my father! I am a VIKING!" The last word was roared in what was the loudest Hiccup had ever been. His vision red, he stepped towards the dragon, determined, and once again rested his foot upon it. His blade raised like a guillotine, ready to do the deed, only to pause again, a sense of wrongness pervading him.

He wouldn't do this. He couldn't do this, could not kill this dragon. He didn't want to kill. He didn't want this thing's blood on his hands. Hiccup felt like crying. He could not honor his father or his village. He was not a Viking. He looked into the Night Fury's eyes, hoping for something that would fix this and froze.

His being chilled, he did not understand. There was none of the ruthless bloodlust, none of the urge to kill and slaughter that he had always imagined. But maybe that was the issue. He had always thought of dragons as monsters, beings that killed humans simply because they could and loved it.

In his naivety, he had imagined Vikings as your typical heroes, defeating the big bad dragon and getting the girl. It was silly but Hiccup was just a teenager, one who had been starved of attention and general friendliness for a long time. He _lived_ in his fantasies because more often than not reality was a too hard to bear. It was the only way to keep up what little optimism he had left.

Looking into those eyes, he realized that in a way, this was worse. There was no hate or love, no distain or compassion, no intelligence, just fear, because no matter how much Hiccup wished it wasn't so, dragons were just animals. They knew how to survive and they feared death. That was all. If he let this thing go now, it would do what its instincts told it and remove the threat. He would die; it would go back to raiding villages and killing humans because _that's what it had to do to survive._

And in some ways they were the same, because Hiccup would also do what he had to do to survive. Deep down, he feared death as well, for both him and his villages because though they had never respected him they were still his people, his family. It was sickening, how similar they were. He wanted nothing more than to run away from this, this nightmare but those ropes would weather eventually and more of his village would die. It would be _his fault_ and he could not bear that just like he could not bear to kill.

But Hiccup would do anything to protect his family, even stain his soul with a Night Fury's blood.

So Hiccup once again raised his blade and this time the guillotine would not be stopped in its path. There was a dull thwack and a great keening met the air as the Night Fury shuddered. It took one last gasp, made one last shake then stilled.

Something wet struck Hiccup on his shoulder. Another met his face just below his eye. The sky had turned gray and it was pouring. Hiccup could not bring himself to care. He felt empty, drained like the water out of the tubs the women used to wash clothes in the morning. Only he wished he could be that water. He wished he could be dumped into the sea and washed away.

He looked up. Maybe it was a good thing it was raining. Then no one would notice his tears. Maybe the gods were crying too, joining him as he silently mourned his lost innocence.

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It was night by the time Hiccup got back home. He closed the door softly and trudged upstairs. The fireplace was crackling and his dad was sitting in his chair, a large shadow cast behind him. His feet stilled as he heard his name called.

"We need to talk." Hiccup turned back to face Stoic, eyes dead. His entire countenance spoke of his weariness.

"I think it's time you learn to fight dragons." Still Hiccup said nothing. The silence was eerie for Stoic. He was so used to the sharp tone of his son's wit ringing out at him. They had always been a little awkward around each other ever since Valhallarama died but it had never been _this_ bad.

Shuffling his feat, he continued, desperate to fill the silence, "You got your wish. Dragon training. You, uh, start tomorrow. You'll need this." He handed Hiccup and axe much too big for him then watched him strain under the weight. Still there was that sense of apathy about him. He took it as a sign that he wasn't really listening and decided that a Father-to Son talk was needed.

Laying his hands upon his shoulders, he said, "This is serious, son. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link and when you carry this axe, you carry all of us. That means you walk like us, you talk like us, and, most importantly, you think like us."

"No more of –this" He gestured to his son. "Deal?"

Hiccup closed his eyes feeling the weight of his father's words like the weight of the axe in his hands. Was it not enough that he had killed for his village? To ask that he give up what was left of his youth, of his _person_, after he had already given so much, wasn't there something wrong here? But he had no choice. He would not be a weak link. Hiccup would do what he had to.

His father repeated the question, "Deal?"

Hiccup opened his eyes, silently reminding himself that he was a Viking, and replied, "Deal."

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**Thanks For reading and don't forget to review!**


	2. Chapter 2 Dreams

**So... Hey guys... I'm finally posting another chapter. Turns out writing and the motivation to get there is really difficult. Who'd have guessed? Anyway you should expect long periods between chapters since I don't really write a lot.**

**Warnings: Last chapter was pretty dark right? I think this one is worse. It does get better at the end and this should be the last chapter like this.**

**Still don't own How to Train Your Dragon**

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That night, Hiccup dreamed.

He was on the edge of a cliff, his arms spread out to feel the rushing winds of the storm behind him. The grass around his feet spun and twirled, brushing his boots. He tore his eyes away from the murderously grey sky, hearing the thick sound of steps coming from behind him. Turning, his heart jumped to his throat and his palms moistened at the sight ahead. Before him stood his mother, Valhallarama, as young as he last remembered her.

Her hair was long, blond, and pulled tight into the traditional bun of a married woman, though two curly locks still hung defiantly about her face as if protesting the average life of a housewife. Decked in semi-light armor, she was always ready for a fight just like most of the Vikings of Berk. Despite that, her blue eyes held a softness that few had ever known.

"Son," she said softly, "I love you." He rushed to hold her, to grasp her in hand and never let go like he had not been allowed when she'd died, only to pass straight through her arms. Looking back he now noticed a silvery likeness to her, similar to a mirage. She was just an illusion, something to draw him in and break him. His eyes wetted. Even though he understood that she could not possibly be there, it still stung to look and be unable to feel.

Her image turned once again to face him but her soft smile appeared to have twisted into a grimace. Odd, since her face had not physically changed at all.

"I will always love you, Hiccup." But now the words he once took comfort in had taken a more ominous tone and as he began to wonder why his mind would conjure such before him, he heard it. A piercing screech impossible to mistake for anything other than a Nightfury's.

"No…" He began to run back towards her but the ground seemed to stretch before him, lengthening the distance between him and his mother. The whine of the dragon's descent grew ever louder. Hiccup rushed forward faster and faster till finally his mother was just an arm's length away only for a black blur to tackle her to the ground.

Hiccup stared as loud crunching noises and the sound of flesh tearing assaulted his ears. Even as his mother was slowly ripped to pieces, she looked back at him with the grimacing smile and spoke again.

"Always."

It was too much for Hiccup. The world became a blur, the voices of everyone shouting at him, screaming his uselessness.

"Pathetic! Can't even throw a bola."

"Always making a mess of things!"

"Should've died with his mother, done the world a favor."

He felt a hand upon his shoulder and turned. His father faced him, axe in hand and said, "Son, when you carry this axe, you carry all of us."

_No, I can't! It's too much! I'll only fail just like I always do._ But his father simply repeated the words, dropping the weighty axe into his hands. Hiccup could only barely lift the thing, and it felt as if it was getting heavier with time.

The voices grew louder, filling him, till all he knew were the hateful remarks of his village. One by one, they appeared, glaring, yelling. Colors fought as everything became a one big blur of pain and then, in a moment of clarity, Hiccup turned around.

Behind him, two men were fighting ferociously over a sword. One was broad and bulky, his blonde hair falling into blue eyes that flashed like lightning. One of his large hands grasped the bottom of the hilt. The other had pitch black hair, slicked back to match his smooth and slender form, eyes glinting with green fire. His hand rested above the other man's.

Both, suddenly ceased their fighting, turned to him and then in one voice spoke, "Stand!"

Strength filled Hiccup, from the bottom of his toes all the way to the tips of his ears. His legs straightened, his back uncurled, and he raised his arms, the weapon they held now as light as a feather.

"Fight!" the men commanded. And fight he did. The air whistled as he cut through each antagonizing image, cut through each of his doubts, till finally he reached the image of his mother and the Nightfury. She was still smiling, still repeating that painful sentence but it no longer affected him the same way. He knew his mother's illness had been the cause of her death and though the feeling of powerlessness still pained him, it was time to move on.

He was done dwelling on things he could not change, done hiding from the world, done with his uselessness, his inability to change, done with the past and ready for the future. So with a roar he, blood rushing in his ears, sliced through the illusion before him, cut through his grief in a single strong stroke.

All of a sudden, he could see himself before him, only he was no longer a short fourteen year-old. His shoulders were broader and his legs longer. He was older and confidence oozed from him. The axe in his hands was replaced by a long thin sword, the blade wickedly sharp. It was the same sword those men were fighting over.

Behind him appeared both men, a hand rested upon each of his shoulders.

"This is who you will be." They whispered.

"This is who you are."

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**I wonder who those men could be? Hmm... Seriously though, if you can't tell who they are I'm either really bad at hinting at things or better than I thought at being subtle.  
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	3. Chapter 3 Gronkles

**So a new chapter for you, even faster than usual. I'm in a bit of rush so this wasn't edited.**

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When Hiccup woke that morning he could not remember what it was he dreamed about. All that remained was an unsettling mixture of peace and frustration, as if he had realized something amazing and then forgotten it. He got up to stretch his too tense muscles but he still felt an odd clenching within him.

_Dragon Training_

Hiccup groaned. He was not ready for this. He didn't think he could even so much as look at another dragon or even one of the other teens without breaking down right now. Maybe if he just lay here, everyone else would just forget about him?

He turned to his side again wanting to cover himself back up, snug in his blankets, but the restlessness had kicked right back up, almost into overdrive. All he could hear were his father's last words to him before his departure. Sighing, he forced himself out of the warmth of his bed and made his way downstairs.

Prepping himself for the day he wondered what had gotten in to him. Of course, he was nowhere near his usual self, but it felt like the world around him had gotten just a bit smaller, more in his grasp. He shook his head. Whatever it was was probably nothing worth thinking about.

Hiccup looked around, checking to see if he had forgotten anything for the day, then noticed the large axe resting against the wall. He questioned how his dad could ever think he could use such a large weapon. Something light and fast would probably fit him better, like a pair of daggers. A picture of a smooth bladed sword flashed through his mind with a sense of familiarity.

He dismissed the idea. If he could not even wield one of his inventions properly, how could he possibly be successful with a sword?

He began the journey to the Kill Ring with such self-deprecating thoughts.

"Welcome to Dragon Training!" Gobber cried.

Shoulders tense and back stiff, Hiccup stepped into the arena. His anxiety had only built on the walk there. His whole body felt like tightly drawn rubber, stretched too near breaking. He made the effort to ignore the other teens and their comments, feeling that one wrong move would cause him to snap and he could not be sure what would happen after that.

What Hiccup didn't realize was that is silence was even more unnerving for the others. They had grown up with the consent presence of Hiccup's sarcastic wit and had expected a reply to their clear excitement at being horrifically scarred. Despite that, they had gotten used to spurning his opinions ad soon pushed their thoughts aside. Except for Gobber.

Gobber had spent enough time in the forge with and around Hiccup to know that his silence was usually something to worry about. The last time Hiccup had been this quiet was when he was four and Val had just died. That had been a nightmare to work through and Stoick would have his head if he returned and Hiccup wasn't at least the same as he when he left. He would deal with it later though; the other kids were getting a little too antsy to leave to themselves. Wouldn't want a fight starting out so soon.

"Let's get started. As you all know, here is where you'll be learning the survival skills you'll need to make it out there as a Viking. This is the most important course you'll take in your general Viking schooling and will be, if that is what you choose to do, the beginning of your career as a Raid Viking."

Seeing the dull faces of Snotlout and the twins, Gobber decided to hurry up and get to the interesting part.

"The one who does the best here in training will get the chance to kill their first dragon before the whole village!"

Snotlout perked up. Smirking, he said innocently, "Uh, Hiccup already killed a Nightfury so does that disqualify him or…?" He snickered not sensing the increasing anger behind him. "Can I switch to the class with the cool Vikings?"

Hiccup was, honestly not in the mood for this, this early in the morning. He didn't know why he was so grumpy but everything seemed to be irritating him more than usual. The day had already started off badly, so when Gobber walked up to him to give him what Hiccup assumed would be his version of a pep talk, he decided he could feel guilty later for glaring at him.

"Hiccup, don't worry!" Gobber said ignoring the harsh look he was giving him as all of them walked to the center of the ring. "You'll do fine! You're small and weak so they'll see you as sickly or insane and go after the more Viking like teens!"

Make that later, a never.

Pointing to each of the different doors, Gobber began introducing the different dragons in turn.

"The Deadly Nadder—"

"Speed: eight, Armor: 16," Fishlegs quietly spoke aloud, growing more and more excited to the annoyance of both Gobber and Hiccup.

"—the Hideous Zippleback—"

"Plus 11: stealth, times two."

"—the Monstrous Nightmare—"

"Firepower: 15." It was clear by this point Fishlegs would only get worse.

"—the Terrible Terror—"

"Attack eight, venom twelve..."

"Will you _stop_ that?" Gobber yelled at Fishlegs. "And lastly, the Gronkle."

"Jaw strength—"

"Fishlegs," Hiccup snapped quietly. Seeing his shocked and slightly wounded face nearly gave Hiccup a migraine. _Great, something else to feel guilty about instead._

Noticing Gobber's hand upon the lever, Snotlout worriedly asked, "Hey, aren't you supposed to teach us something first?"

Grinning, he said, "I believe in learning on the job."

What came next for Hiccup was a swirl of fear and resignation, as he looked upon the first dragon he seen since that day. Seeing the mottled hide of it, he could not help but remember the glimmering black scales of the only Nightfury to ever have been sighted, the slight resistance it's flesh gave a his knife pierced through with a sickeningly dull sound.

It wasn't till he heard the shout from Gobber to quickly grab a shield had he realized he had somehow managed to move himself to the edge of the arena in his daze. He looked around with a frightening clarity, saw the dangers around them, how each teenager managed disregard so easily and was oddly disgusted. And angry. Furious, in fact, in a way he'd never been.

The twins stood there in the middle of the arena, fighting over one shield when there were numerous strewn about them. Their loud voices were sure to attract the dragon's attention. Fishlegs appeared to be too focused on answering questions to properly defend himself. Snotlout was doing his usual thing and trying to flirt with Astrid.

And _Astrid._ The ideal Viking teen, the pinnacle of pinnacles, the best of her age, these were all things that defined her. But even she did not understand. He could see from the slight on her lips, that she whether she knew it or not, was loving this, like one who had never really been at the edge of life. It was not the same crazed grin of the adults as they went into battle knowing it could be their last, no, it was a satisfied one, to finally be proving her worth to the world. And Hiccup hated it.

So he set about fixing it, with a single-mindedness he usually only put towards his latest invention.

First were the twins. There would be little he could to do quell their fighting, he was fully believed that they had been fighting even in the womb, so instead decided on focusing on the immediate issue. The _dragon_ that charging a fire ball aimed right at them!

He dropped his shield then, rushing towards them, he pulled what would be one of the most memorable moments of his entire life, sliding across the ground and beneath the shield as if the ground were as smooth as ice. Quickly, he grabbed one end of the shield and yanked as hard as he could downward, pulling the twins down as well, the Gronkle's fireball flying over them.

He jumped again, keeping his eyes on the dragon as it lazily flew through the air. In the background he heard Gobber as if he was far away, telling Ruffnut and Tuffnut they were out. He focused his hearing back to him so as to hear the next part of the lesson.

"Those shields are good for something other than protection: noise! Dragons hate it, throws off their aim. So make lots of it!"

The small part of Hiccups brain that wasn't devoted to keeping his... friends… teammates… alive wondered how far he'd sunk to so willingly partake in causing this dragon what was clearly a sickening disorientation. Yet even as he watched the Gronkle fly around drunkenly, he found he could not careless, if it meant that he'd live another day. He wondered what he'd done to have his soul damned so.

His musings were pushed away as Gobber spoke up again.

"All dragons have a limited number of shots. Anyone know how many a Gronkle has?"

"Five?" Snotlout said warily.

Fishlegs jumped out of cover, correctly answering six, only for the dragon to turn it's attentions to him.

"That's one for each of you!" Gobber remarked gaily, wincing inwardly as Fishlegs body spun with the force of the Gronkle's shot it his shield. "Fishlegs, out!"

Seeing this, Hiccup gritted his teeth, angry that he couldn't get there in time. He couldn't afford to be late like that in battle. Near him he heard the sound of Snotlout's obnoxious voice, attempting to flirt with Astrid. Something about this in particular frustrated Hiccup, and no it was not because of jealousy!

"You should come over my place to work out sometime! You look like you workout."

Hiccup charged Snotlout, hitting him shoulder first and ramming him into the ground. Yet another fireball flew right over his head. Two left.

He looked Snotlout in the eyes, then told him fiercely, "Pay attention and get your act together or, Odin help me, a raging dragon won't be the only trouble you'll have on your hands!" Taking advantage of his shock, Hiccup yanked the shield out of his hand and backed up, putting his eyes back on the dragon.

Faintly he heard, "Snotlout, you're out!" but Astrid's sudden appearance beside him blocked that out. Looking at her he felt the odd need to tease her with an audacity he'd never had before.

"So just you and me, huh?"

Not even looking at him, she replied, "Nope, just you," then rolled away again. He stared at her in shock, hearing the drone of Gronkle wings coming towards him. She'd left him, abandoned him to what very well could be his end, and all she could say was_ "Nope, just you!_" Shaking his head, he'd deal with the effects of this day later, he ran, cursing himself for getting so distracted.

The dragon fired another shot that only barely missed him. He could feel the searing heat on his calves and ankles, dropping his shield in surprise. Why did his clumsiness pick now of all times to rear its ugly head? He chased after it but his energy rush was beginning to slow, making every footstep sloppier. Finally he caught up to it only for the shield to bounce off the wall, roll directly past him and under the Gronkle behind him.

Turning, he was faced directly with the mouth of a dragon, watching its last shot building, and wondered if taking a fireball to the face would be a quick death or not.

Then out of the side of his vision came Gobber's hook-hand, lodging its self into the mouth of the Gronkle and pulling the aim off enough for the molten rock to hit the wall next to Hiccup.

"And that's six! Now get back in your cage, you overgrown sausage." Hiccup heard none of the rest of Gobber's speech, too caught up in his second near death to focus. Finally he realized that they had probably been dismissed seeing as all the other teens were leaving.

As he began to walk towards the entrance of the Kill Ring, he was suddenly shoved back to the ground. The sharp cry he gave was enough to attract the others attention. Looking behind him he realized it was Snotlout who had pushed him, an ugly sneer across his face.

"Not so tough now, Hiccup? Or should I say Useless?" Somewhere within him, Hiccup knew Snotlout was only doing this to reassure himself of his own strength but in that moment the stress of the day finally hit Hiccup. His shoulder ached, his head was scolding with blisters, his legs were scraped from sliding on the ground, and he was sure that he was at least slightly traumatized the day's events. It really wasn't that surprising that Hiccup's restraint chose then to snap.

Before he knew what exactly was happening, Hiccup was already on his feet with his arm reared back. His fist snapped forward with more strength then Hiccup had ever used, striking Snotlout right in the nose and breaking it. He stared at the downed boy as he rolled around in pain and then quietly walked out of the Kill Ring, fully aware of all the others' stares on his back.

His face deadpan, he wondered what the Hel he did to deserve this.


End file.
